


Sweet As Pie

by Moransroar



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Tattoo Parlor, Christmas, Christmas Fluff, First Kiss, M/M, Tattoo Artist Jack
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-14
Updated: 2016-12-19
Packaged: 2018-09-08 10:53:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 7,262
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8841772
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Moransroar/pseuds/Moransroar
Summary: Jack owns his own tattoo parlor.A few weeks before Christmas a cute, drunk blond walks into his shop.What he wants?Why, a slice of pie, of course.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [imamaryanne](https://archiveofourown.org/users/imamaryanne/gifts).



> 'Swawesome Santa submission for imamaryanne. I hope you like it!
> 
> The fic is complete but i'll spread out the chapters over this week.
> 
> Beta-read by my hearties Alex and Jess

The moment the chime of the little bell by the door sounds late on a Saturday night, Jack regrets his decision of keeping the parlour open until late on the weekends. A group of guys walk in, some his ages, others younger, and Jack doesn’t even have to look at them to know they’re drunk. Or they’re just really, really loud.

Surprisingly enough, though, one of the least drunk-looking actually comes to the desk he’s sat at, whereas the rest stays behind, snickering among themselves and pointing at the blond boy that now stood right in front of him. Jack looks up, and as far as his eyes can detect, he guesses that the boy’s still a completely clean sheet, as it were. An empty canvas. Jack smiles welcomingly like he does with every client that walks through his door.

“Can I help you?” He asks. The boy seems distracted for a moment when he’s in the process of giving Jack a once-over. Jack is used to people’s gazes lingering on his arms. His smile turns more genuine when the blond’s eyes widen in admiration. That he’s used to, too. The intricate patterns and images edged into his skin always attract people’s attention, and he’s always glad to see it’s appreciated by some.

Promptly, the boy seems to shake himself from his thoughts and plops his phone onto the higher section of the desk that gives shelter to his computer and stacks of administration and customer files. There’s an image on there, but because of the angle, Jack can’t quite see it. Obviously, the boy’s come in to get ink, but Jack is still trying to determine if he’s sober enough to make that kind of decision right now. Legally, he’s not allowed to provide his services to anyone who is under the influence of alcohol. And besides, it’s never a good idea to get something permanently inserted into your skin when you’re not technically in the right mind to. Not that Jack hasn’t done that before. But then again he still regrets the little hockey stick parallel to the outline of his right hipbone. Even if only just a little bit.

“Hi, sorry!” The boy suddenly pipes up and Jack’s mind provides that he’s not heard someone so cheery all day. “I was just—oh, you know. Erm, yes. To answer your question, you can help me. I’m looking to get this done.”

The boy then slides the phone towards Jack and he comes to stand so he can lean on the desk top and look down at the phone. The picture is clearer now and Jack reminds himself that he’s not supposed to have a clear opinion on the things people want because it’s their decision but—Jack chuckles.

It’s a simple design. A coloured, cartoonish image of a slice of cherry pie with laced crust and a dollop of whipped cream on top. The boy is looking at him expectantly so Jack wipes the smirk off his face and replaces it with a more business-like expression. He’s just glad the boy’s friends aren’t intervening. They’re more entranced by the pictures of tattoos Jack had designed lining the wall.

“Look, kid—“

“Eric.”

“Eric. Look, Eric. It’s a nice design, but have you really thought this through? Because I think that you might want to come back when you’re a little more…sober.”

He hates to break the news to him because the kid’s face crumples a little bit, but he nods. He seems to understand, right? Hell, after a second he even looks sort of relieved. Jack continues.

“If you still want this anywhere next week, you’re very welcome to come back. We’re least busy on Wednesdays, so you can walk in then or make an appointment.”

Jack produces a business card from one of the little trays on top of the counter to hand it to Eric. The boy takes it and looks it over with interest. He glances back at his friends which only gives Jack the impression that it might even be for some kind of bet, who knows what these groups of friends get up to these days. It sure wouldn’t be the first time he’s seen something like that, and though in his opinion it is someone’s own business if they want to get a tattoo or not, he always offers advice to the people that come into his shop – it’s the least he can do.

The whole crew goes with a last couple of loud laughs and goodbyes, Eric shimmying them out, and then the parlour is silent again. It surprised Jack how easily the group was persuaded into leaving – Eric barely even had to raise his voice to get their attention.

After that, Jack often spends time wondering if he’ll see the boy again, if he’ll come back to his shop, or if he’s discouraged. It once crosses his mind that maybe this has put Eric off of coming to Jack’s parlour in particular, but that’s a thought that gets discarded quickly because it goes nowhere at all. Something about scaring a boy like that doesn’t sit well with him.

 

 

The next time Jack sees Eric is on a Wednesday nearly two weeks later.

He has just finished up drawing a design for a client the next day when he sees the boy lingering outside of his shop window. He’s looking in, but seems nervous, fiddling with the handle of a Tupperware container. It looks like he’s hesitating or he’s too embarrassed to go in after last time. Both of those seem very likely. But the shop is empty, Jack is the only one working that particular day, and maybe that’s what gives Eric the courage to step inside.

The little bell above the door tinkles and Jack looks up as if he only just notices Eric is there. 

“Hello there,” he says with a warm smile.

Large eyes fix on him where he’s sitting behind an illuminated desk a little further into the shop.

“Oh- hello!” Eric’s voice is cheery but there’s a slight waver to it that tells Jack that he is, indeed, nervous – for whatever reason.

Jack slides from the leather stool and makes his way over to the counter just as Eric sets the container he’d been carrying on the elevated section of the desktop. Jack looks at it, and back at Eric, puzzled.

“I brought you a lil’ somethin’,” Eric explains quickly when he notices the look he’s getting, “For last time. I felt so rude coming in with a crowd like that. It must’ve been such a hazard!”

The lid comes off of the Tupperware container and almost immediately when Eric takes it off the parlour fills with a scent that reminds him a lot of whenever Larissa decides to bring in one of those scented candles of hers. The apple pie one. Jack has grown to like that one but now that he’s smelled _this_ he isn’t sure that he’ll ever be satisfied with the artificial scents his colleague douses him in.

There is definitely apple pie in the container, and Jack is too overwhelmed by the gorgeous smell to really worry about why Eric has brought it with him in the first place. Within seconds, there’s a large slice on a paper plate in front of him, and Eric is scooping whipped cream out of a smaller container to put on top. Right before the dollop falls to the top crust, Eric looks up.

“Goodness, you’re not lactose intolerant are you? Can you eat gluten? Are you allergic to anything?”

The urgency in Eric’s voice startles Jack a little bit but he manages to shake his head. Luckily not. His gaze went back to the pie to watch Eric lower the whipped cream onto the top of the slice. Jack hasn’t even been able to explain that an apology isn’t necessary and that he didn’t mind someone coming in late at night on the weekend, and right now he’s too speechless to do so still.

“Uh. Thanks,” he says instead when Eric pushes the plate towards him, “That’s- you shouldn’t have.”

“It’s no problem. I felt real bad about what happened, and I guess I wanted to illustrate my choice of design.”

Eric’s smile was bright and expectant so Jack picks up the white plastic fork beside the large slice and lets it sink into the thick layer of apples and raisins and crust. Before he can lift it to his mouth and taste it, Eric adds, “It’s maple-crusted.”

And then Jack takes the first bite out of a slice of pie that is going to change his life.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another chapter will come later today, since these are quite a bit shorter!

“You’ve got a little…”

Jack looks up and raises his eyebrows at the vague hand gestures.

“Never mind, I’ll get it.”

Eric’s thumb wipes carefully over the corner of Jack’s mouth and cleans the whipped cream off of the digit on a paper napkin.

They’re sitting in the little employees lounge in the back, finishing the slices of maple apple pie Eric has brought. One for Jack, one for himself, and one for Jack’s fridge for tomorrow – not the day after, because the crust will be soggy and that’s a waste of a perfectly fine slice of pie.

Jack now understands why Eric – Bitty, that’s what his friends call him – wants a slice of pie tattooed on his right shoulder blade. Eric had considered getting hockey sticks and a little cupcake instead of a puck because he loves hockey but he’s told Jack a quite hilarious story on why that would only bring up ‘scarring memories’. A story that still makes Jack smile whenever he thinks about it.

When they’ve spent at least an hour chatting and getting to know each other while enjoying Bitty’s fantastic homemade pie, Jack promptly puts a notebook on the table and starts drawing with a pencil. The result is a slice of pie similar to the one Eric had showed him that night he’d first come in, though somehow softer-looking. Much to Jack’s amusement, Bitty declares that it is a pie with feeling, and also that it is exactly what he was looking for.

Jack redraws the design on better paper, then prints it a few times in various sizes for Eric to decide which one he wants.

Bitty is clearly nervous when Jack comes back with the multiple designs and waits by a body-length mirror for Eric to join him. But the boy is determined to get it over and done with now before he might change his mind simply because the tattoo guns on the small tables scattered around the parlour are starting to make him a little bit queasy. He leaves his shirt draped over Jack’s desk chair and joins the artist by the mirror.

Jack’s hands, Bitty discovers, are gentle. That shouldn’t surprise him, because the work he does requires something of the like, and yet when the warm digits so carefully curve over one shoulder to guide him in turning his back to the mirror, he’s almost startled. That hand – warm and soft – stays there while the other moves the different sizes of the design over Bitty’s back. The thin paper tickles his skin. Goosebumps raise across his arms, but he doesn’t giggle. He’s too fixated on the warmth that hovers from one shoulder to the other.

Bitty looks over his shoulder to determine which one he wants, and when that’s done Jack disappears only to come back with alcohol and Vaseline to clean and moisturize the area where Bitty wants it. Sticking the design on and slowly pulling it off leaves inky lines on Bitty’s shoulder, and they make him slowly realise that this is actually happening. He wonders how he’s so calm about it. He assumes it must be Jack’s hand on his arm.

In the end, the thing that terrifies Eric most turns out to be the sound of the tattoo gun. Jack explains that it’s quieter than most, and still Bitty is trembling and looking at it as if it’s going to inflict harm upon him. But there is Jack’s hand again, on the opposite shoulder, his thumb applying slight pressure and rubbing very gentle circles into his skin. The blond takes a deep breath and tentatively lays his own hand over Jack’s, seeking comfort. He doesn’t think about it. Jack does.

Jack turns the device on after a moment of watching the small fingers move over his own and feeling how they settle there, almost perfectly in the gaps between his own. It’s such an unexpectedly sweet gesture and it throws Jack off for a brief few moments before he remembers the task at hand. Eric’s first tattoo is going to be beautiful.


	3. Chapter 3

“Oh, _Jack_ ,” Bitty’s sigh comes.

Jack has his lip caught between his teeth and is watching Eric’s face closely.

“It’s beautiful. Oh, I love it. I absolutely _love_ it.”

Even Jack has to admit that it has turned out prettier than he had first imagined that it would.

He beckons the boy closer to reapply some Vaseline and cover the design on his back with cling film when Bitty has looked at it in the mirror enough.

Jack offers Bitty a small package of chocolate covered peanuts when it’s all done.

“Here,” he says, “Eat these. You’ll feel a bit better for it.”

Bitty takes the pack with a thoughtful nod and then flings his arms around Jack’s shoulders, taking the taller man by surprise. He’s still naked from the waist up but Jack chuckles and curls his arms around Bitty’s back. He’s seen many emotional responses to people getting their first tattoo, but this must be his favourite out of all of them. Eric is just small enough to be able to fit perfectly in Jack’s arms, even if it’s only for a few moments before they pull away again. He smells like freshly baked cookies.

“Thank you so much, Jack. You did a _wonderful_ job,” Bitty continues to praise him. Everything he says makes Jack feel a little warmer, a little lighter. It’s new, the effect Eric’s compliments have on him, but he doesn’t mind. Making new friends has always been a sort of strange sensation to him.

“Now, there are some things that you need to remember. And if there’s ever anything-“ Jack tries very hard not to put too much emphasis on _anything_ , but fails in doing so, “-just drop by or give us a call.”

His words imply that their goodbye will be sooner rather than later, and for a moment Eric is quiet, he just nods. He seems to consider that, too. Just like Jack it now going over what he just said and what it might imply.

Would he like to see Eric back in his shop again sometime soon? Yes. The boy was more than welcome, especially after being the actual highlight of Jack’s day.

That day had started out a bit boring, slow with only one client on Jack’s schedule, but now he felt like he’d just had a fantastic, purposeful few hours, all thanks to one Eric Bittle. Oh, how one person can light up a normally rather gloomy day. It’s sad that Jack was going to have to see him go. Maybe tomorrow, Jack would tell Lardo about Eric. He’s sure that she’d love to hear him talk about someone like this cute little blond guy.

Jack receives another hug by the door after he’s given Eric a leaflet with information on how to look after his new work of art. (Wash with warm water two hours after leaving, don’t touch it unless applying cream that softens the skin and supports healing, don’t scratch when it itches, etc.)

“Don’t forget to eat your pie, okay hon?” Eric smiles and Jack smiles back down at him.

“How could I ever?”

Bitty leaves with the empty Tupperware container, chewing on his M&M’s with a light skip in his step. And with him, it seems, he takes the wonderful smell of apple pie and warm kitchens. Jack misses it as soon as the door closes behind Eric and the little bell above the doorframe sings its little song as if it’s announcing the happy arrival of another customer. Turning around, Jack finds his way back to the chair behind his desk to sort out the designs of Bitty’s tattoo that they didn’t end up using. One of them gets a small piece of tape stuck to it, and Jack puts it up against his desk. He doesn’t know why, but he spends the majority of the rest of that day glancing back to the little image.

Maybe it’s just a nice design.


	4. Chapter 4

“Still here, huh?”

Lardo is standing in the door opening and Jack looks up from where he’s bowed over a sketch, blinking through the darkness on the other side of the parlour. He doesn’t know what time it is but it’s late and it’s dark outside and he should have closed up shop about two hours ago. Lardo probably walked by and saw him sitting there, in near-darkness except for the little desk light. And now she’s standing there, and she’s raising her eyebrow, and Jack smiles. “I live upstairs, Duan. Of course I’m still here.”

She rolls her eyes with a smile and steps inside to stand behind Jack and look over his shoulder at the paper he’s working on.

It’s actually good that she’s here right now, Jack thinks, because though he’s worked in tattoo parlours for years now, it’s Larissa who is probably way more experienced with art than he is. After all, she went to school for it. She’s the one with the degree in art, not Jack. And because Jack had a habit of both doubting and underestimating himself, he appreciates Lardo’s opinion on these kinds of things. Especially large pieces like this one. Of course it’s the customer that needs to be satisfied with the design in the end, but a second opinion from someone like Larissa is very welcome.

She glances at the design and hums, which Jack supposes is a good sign, and then he hears her chuckle. Jack checks over his drawing to make sure there are no ink smudges or minor details that he’s missed, accidental hidden messages between the thick and thin black lines, but there’s nothing there.

“What’s that?” And she’s pointing at the little pie that’s still suspended from the edge of his desk. It’s only been a day since Bitty set foot in his shop after that first failed attempt, and Jack has barely been able to take his eyes off of it.

“Something someone requested I do yesterday,” Jack replies.

“Holy shit, is that from the guy you told me about? The drunk kid?”

Jack smiles. Then he remembers. He rises from his chair to duck into the employees kitchen and open the fridge. He’s left Lardo behind, who looks positively confused, and even more so when Jack returns with a slice of pie on a plate. Without the whipped cream, but it doesn’t need whipped cream to taste like _ciel_. Larissa eyes the pie and Jack puts it down on his desk with a broad smile and hands her a fork.

She closes her eyes when she takes the first bite and makes an almost indignant sound that makes Jack grin even more until his cheeks hurt. He doesn’t know why, but he’s damn proud.

“The kid?” Lardo asks when she’s managed to swallow her bite, and now Jack sticks a fork into the softening crust.

He hums and nods. “Eric. But his friends call him Bitty.”

Lardo raises her eyebrows as she takes another bite, but Jack ignores that look.

They’re silent for a while as they both chip away at the slice of pie, and when it’s done Jack can feel the other’s eyes on him but he keeps his gaze down as he presses crumbs down with his index finger and swipes them from the plate. He’s savouring every single crumb he can get.

Jack likes this about Larissa. That they can just sit in silence for a while, enjoying a dessert or looking at a design or just coming up with ideas. She’s very pleasant to work with, too. All of Jack’s employees are, even though he has to be careful with scheduling William and Derek to work on the same day. When he does that, either he or Lardo need to be in the shop as well. Jack doesn’t know what’s up with the two guys, they just seem to just rub each other the wrong way.

He’s got a nice little grew of quite close friends, acquainted over the years of his working in this profession. Thanks to his love for tattoos, he’s managed to gain some friends he never thought he’d have.

“Well, I’d better be going,” Lardo says suddenly, breaking the silence and interrupting Jack’s almost reminiscent train of thought. Jack watches her move to the door and turn in the opening. “Gotta get some sleep. Sweet dreams, huh Jack?”

Jack suppresses a grin.

Before the door closes behind Larissa, she calls over her shoulder.

“Emphasis on sweet!”


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A very short chapter, I know. I've been so overwhelmed with how much more I want to write that it just doesn't come out right.  
> I have the overwhelming urge to write more and keep adding to this story, but i'm going to leave it as it is and hope that you guys will like it.
> 
> The next two (and last) chapters are going to be longer. Especially the very last one.
> 
> Thank you for your support so far, and enjoy this short but hopefully nice chapter.

There’s a box on Jack’s desk.

He gets back from going to the store to get himself some lunch when he finds it, and he checks it for a card with an explanation but there’s nothing on there. Luckily, Lardo is sitting with a customer, and sees Jack inspect the box.

“Eric came by for you.”

Even the mention of the name alone makes him smile now. Jack’s eyes automatically go to the little picture of the pie on his desk. Then he opens the box.

Now, Jack has walked past bakeries before, and little confectionary shops, so he knows what a professional pie looks like. And this, standing before him right now, looks like it came right from a bakery. But Jack knows better than that, he knows that it was completely homemade. A delicious smell of maple syrup and piecrust lifts from the box and fills the shop slowly but surely. Even Lardo lets out a noise back there, and the customer has turned his head with interest.

It’s a pecan pie. Eric and he had a discussion about the way you pronounce ‘pecan’ when Jack was doing his tattoo. Apparently the way he said it was completely wrong, but however Jack had tried, he couldn’t wrap his head around the way Eric pronounced it in that sweet Southern accent. Maybe he should have actually _tried_ getting it right in the first place, but having Eric correct him time and time again was just too amusing. Too endearing. Cute, even. Jack allows himself to use that word now, since there is no way of avoiding it whenever he tries to describe Eric either to himself or to someone who’s willing to listen.

“Pity you just missed him, huh?” Says Lardo, and Jack gives an absent little nod. A real pity. Jack would have loved to see Eric’s face after opening the box. He’d look so proud of his own creation.

Inside the box, in the centre of the pie, there’s a little, white, rectangular sort of sign made from sugar, and it says ‘thank you’ in a pretty font. Jack finds himself shaking his head. He didn’t need a thank-you for anything, and yet here he was. For a split second, he wonders if Bitty was just looking for the opportunity to see him and talk to him again, but that seems vain and a little ridiculous. Eric’s just a really, really nice kid. Jack can appreciate that.

When they’ve closed up the shop, they gather in the little kitchen to eat a slice of pie before they go home. Jack wishes that Bitty had left his number or something so that he could thank him for the pie, but he’ll just have to have faith and trust that he’ll be back some day.

It’s strange that Jack hopes that that day should come soon. True, he spent over two hours chatting with Eric, getting to know him and even opening up a little bit about himself, too. Jack values his customers, he values their opinions greatly and wants to know a little bit about each and every one of them. But they’re all customers. Clients. People who he sees, chats with, makes something for, and then they leave. Some he sees returning, like Shitty, who has actually become a really good friend of his, but others he never sees again. And he normally has no desire to, either. Maybe it was just the way Bitty made the shop feel different. A good different, definitely. But something it had never felt like before.

“Next time,” he says to Larissa when he’s finished his slice of pie, “At least ask him to leave his number.”

When he looks up he’s met with a sweet, knowing smile, and Jack doesn’t even try to convince her that he just wants to thank him for the pie.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Second to last chapter!
> 
> The last chapter will be up today. I was going to have it all posted by yesterday (Sunday) but somehow...?  
> Anyway, i'll post the very last chapter somewhere tonight.

It’s like Eric _knows_ that Jack works the shop on his own on Wednesdays.

Or maybe he just so happens to stop by it a lot on that particular day.

Jack changes his mind when the look on Bitty’s face is one of panic and he seems to be so very close to tears that it startles Jack.

He rushes to the front of the shop to meet him.

“What’s going on? Are you alright?”

Eric is hiccupping through a reply that Jack can’t quite understand so he gently coaxes him towards the little kitchen but before he can even convince Eric to take a seat the boy is dropping his backpack and taking off his shirt.

He’s in tears now, and Jack thinks that he might panic.

Jack asks if he’s alright again, what happened, why did he take his shirt off?

Bitty turns his back to him and Jack sees the tattoo he made for him a week ago on that very day. The poor boy is blubbering, stuttering through a response.

“Someone—someone yanked at my backpack, and i-it chafed, it scratched my back to hard that I thought that—that it had somehow scratched off part of my tattoo and I thought I could feel it b-bleeding so I panicked and I ran here because it was close and… and...”

Jack is blinking at Bitty’s shaking back but the tattoo looks fine. A little red as if it has indeed been scratched but the ink hasn’t faded and the way little flakes of skin are shedding around the picture looks normal to him. He takes a closer look to reassure Eric, and puts his hands gently on the boy’s shoulders. It’s like he feels some of the tension fall away from them the minute he does.

“Shh, Eric. Listen to me. Your tattoo looks fine. The moisture you felt and thought was blood was just some water your body is producing to protect the wound. It’s okay. Nothing happened.”

That seems to calm him down a little bit too, and Eric looks over his shoulder. “Really?”

Jack smiles reassuringly, “Really. Now, let me get some cream and I’ll cover it for you again, just to be sure. Is that okay?”

Bitty nods so Jack fetches a tube of scar balm and some cling film. One hand goes on Eric’s clean shoulder while the other gently rubs the cream over the tattoo. Jack doesn’t realise he’s rubbing soothing circles into Eric’s back with his thumb again until the boy hums. He’s stopped crying now. He seems relaxed.

“You have nice hands,” Jack hears Bitty say, even if it’s softly.

He doesn’t know what to say so he murmurs a quiet ‘thank you’ in return.

Eric looks over his shoulder. Jack is taking longer with treating the tattoo than necessary, but the other is making no move to get it over with, so he’s content with taking his time.

“It’s a pity I missed you the other day. I hope you liked the pie. You said you liked pecan pie, right?”

Jack nods and smiles. He thinks it’s a pity, too. He’s very tempted to say he’s missed seeing Bitty, but that’s a silly thing to say, isn’t it?

“It was… _savoureux_.”

Bitty seems satisfied with that because his smile is wider and softer than Jack thinks he’s seen before. His lashes are wet with the tears he’s just shed and his eyes look a little bit glassy still, but they’re pretty, they’re very _beau_ indeed. Jack’s hand has stilled hovering by Bitty’s back while he’s inspecting his face from up close, and his other hand slides from the top of his shoulder down to his upper arm. They’re standing close and Jack doesn’t know what he’s doing, but then maybe neither does Bitty.

But Jack has never found himself in a moment more perfect for kissing a boy he’s been thinking about for days on end.

Jack’s half-past-four appointment clears his throat. Jack and Bitty practically spring apart.

“Shitty.”

“Bro!”

Shitty’s eyes are twinkling while Eric practically scrambles to get his shirt back on, and even before Jack can protest because he still needs to put the cling film on, the boy is already out the door with a red head and a swift and nervously cheery “bye!” thrown over his shoulder.

“Sheesh,” Shitty laughs and jabs his thumb over his shoulder at the exit, “Were you that scary?” He grins when he looks out of the shop window but Jack can’t really find it in him to smile back. Luckily, Shitty doesn’t seem to notice how flustered he is, and merely continues, happy as ever.

“Alright, my man, we gonna get this piece done today?”

 

They end up finishing Shitty’s large sleeve piece, but Jack’s thoughts are not with ink at the moment.

They’re with large, dark, doe eyes, and a sweet, sweet smile, and they’re making him wonder if his kiss would have tasted as sweet as his pies.


	7. Chapter 7

Jack is being looked at by both Larissa and Derek as he reaches up over his head to push a sharp pin into the string. When he leans back, the decoration swings gently from one side to the other a few times before hanging still, and – most importantly – not falling.

“Looks good, I’d say,” Derek comments, and Lardo is nodding. But when Jack steps back and looks their shop over, the large fluorescent light overhead off to show the soft yellow and brightly coloured Christmas lights draped over and around every framed design and little decorations and hooks on the walls, he presses his lips into a brief pout of consideration.

The small radio on Jack’s desk is blasting Christmas songs. One of their customers earlier that day had commented that all they needed to lure more people in now was hot cocoa and gingerbread.

Normally, putting all the decorations up is tedious. It had been, back when Jack had just started and had been alone in the shop. Now, with Lardo and Derek there to help out both in the shop on normal work days and with things like this, it is all a little less stressful. The holidays can really just be about being together with the people you love now that that has fallen away for Jack. Shitty steps out of the back room and claps excitedly.

“’Swawesome!” He grins, and comes to stand next to Lardo to drape an arm over her shoulder. “We going, Lards?”

Unfortunately, not everything lasts forever, and however much Jack would like his crew to stay until he’s going to close the shop, he knows that they all have things to do. He has their Christmas dinner to look forward to though. Something to fill the empty spot of time he would normally spend with his parents, but they’re still back in Montreal, only a festive Skype call away but still.

“Yeah, we still have to drop by the grocery store first. I’m not going to that stop-and-shop for egg nog ever again,” Lardo replies.

Derek snorts. “You’d better bring the good stuff to dinner.”

They all seem to agree on that, silently looking over the current decorations for a moment.

The small Christmas tree in one corner of the parlour has been fully decorated by Derek and Larissa. They didn’t always agree on the way they were doing so or which ornaments to tie around the branches, but it looks really rather nice nevertheless. The lights are very evenly distributed, which is greatly and aesthetically satisfying. One of the pros of having two artists decorate a Christmas tree.

“I should get going, too. You sure you’re okay with finishing this up on your own?” Derek turns to Jack, who nods. He would like a bit of silence and alone time after all their chirping and laughing. It’s nice to have that kind of energy around you, but it also gets a little bit tired after a while. Jack is perfectly content with continuing to put up more lights and more little decorations.

He decides he won’t stop until strings of lights decorate nearly every conceivable surface in the shop.

It’s fantastic to have a place of your own to do with as you please, and as he spends more time in the shop than in his little apartment above it, he might as well put all his effort into making this look nice and potentially luring in some new customers.

Shitty wraps his arms around Jack and hugs him tightly, even brushes a bristly kiss to his cheek, before disappearing out of the door after Lardo and waving over his shoulder. They’re not going to be seeing each other for two whole days, and Jack is positive that Shitty is going to miss him like it’s twenty days instead of two. He likes that about him. He went from customer to one of his best friends.

Jack waves his friends off and returns to decorating his shop again.

It’s already dark when Jack finishes his dinner at his desk while glancing around the room. He’s still not entirely satisfied, but then he spent some of the time since his crew left helping a new customer decide if she wanted to get her fifth tattoo taken there or elsewhere. He’s satisfied to know that Derek’s skill with intricate patterns has persuaded her to choose their shop instead of the one three streets away. He’s always been proud of his employees, and feels that familiar pang of pure pride whenever someone is blown away by his friends’ skills and so determined to get one of their works on their body.

Jack puts his plate aside and picks up the mistletoe that Lardo had jokingly brought with her. She’d suggested he should put it above the door, but Jack thinks that might be an excuse for her to be able to perform part of this new art project she’s working on. However much he encourages her to make progress, the last time they had Lardo following their customers around with a camera, and he’s not sure he wants their clients to be scared shitless of getting their tattoo taken there again.

Jack is pretty much tangled up in tinsel when the little bell of the door sounds. At first, he thinks it’s part of one of the decorations, until someone gently clears their throat.

He swivels around while shaking the silver tinsel from his sleeve.

“Hi. Uh—I wasn’t sure if you were closed already, but the lights were on, so…”

Jack’s heart does a little jump when he sees Eric standing in his shop, wearing an atrocious Christmas sweater and a small, shy smile. He didn’t think he’d ever get to see that again. That smile. He doesn’t need all these Christmas lights with a smile like that.

“Hey,” Jack says, dumbfounded, “We’re technically closed, yeah. But it’s okay. I was just putting up some more decorations.”

Bitty is looking around when Jack’s safely reassured him that he doesn’t have to leave. He chuckles.

“Don’t you think you’ve put up enough already?”

Jack follows Bitty’s gaze, and murmurs, “Honestly? No idea.”

Eric laughs and Jack can’t not when the blond boy does. It’s infectious.

“Do you need any help?”

Jack doesn’t, but he’d like Bitty to stick around for a little bit. If he’s offering to, even after what happened last time, he must really like Jack’s company. Or something. Jack doesn’t want to get his hopes up and say perhaps Eric likes being around him, likes him, but it really sort of seems like it.

He’s already overanalysed the situation last time, and yet his mind goes right back to considering every possible outcome had they not been interrupted. His heart is telling him to make a move, as Lardo had phrased it, but his brain is telling him it might not be a good idea.

It might have been a ‘heat of the moment’ kind of thing.

Bitty being here, now, does prove that he’s comfortable enough, though. Jack can only be relieved that he’s here now. He wouldn’t have been able to handle it very well had Eric stayed away forever. Jack is sure that the kind of guilt that would inflict upon him would not go away so easily.

“Yeah. I think I could use it.”

And so Jack lets Bitty guide him through the process of properly and aesthetically pleasingly decorating (and not overdecorating) his shop until they’re out of the good decorations. They don’t say much, but the mood is good, the atmosphere between them light and friendly. When they chat it’s mostly about the decorations or Bitty’s tattoo, how it’s doing and how it ended up healing and if he’s still happy with it. It’s been over two weeks now and the tattoo has fully healed, and though Jack would like to see it again, he doesn’t want to ruin the mood by promptly asking Eric to take off his shirt. He’s pretty sure that would be crude.

Jack pours the both of them a cup of tea and they sit down, admiring their creation. He has to admit that the shop looks nicer after the rearranging. Maybe he didn’t really have any idea what he was doing himself after all. But Bitty clearly had a good idea.

A soft song accompanies the gentle fingertips on his arm. Jack blinks out of his thoughts and notices that Bitty has started tracing the images on his forearms where the sleeves of his plaid are rolled up to his elbows. The touch is excruciatingly soft and Jack doesn’t know what to say for a good minute. So he keeps quiet and watches Bitty and maybe his cheeks feel hot when the boy looks up to meet his gaze.

“They’re beautiful. Did you do any of them yourself?”

Jack shakes his head. “None of these. I like to properly see what I’m doing. And besides, they’re all by different artists from different states.”

Bitty looks and sounds like he’s deep in thought when he softly says that, “You’re a work of art.”

It’s silly, and it’s sweet, and Jack has to duck his head to hide his smile, which Eric probably thinks is because he’s amused.

“Are you laughing at me? Don’t laugh at me! It’s true. You’re a walking, talking work of art. Literally.”

But Jack shakes his head and lifts his face to Bitty. Okay, maybe he’s a little bit amused, but with Eric’s warm hand still on his forearm and the way he has his lips pursed into a pout, how could he risk him being angry with Jack? Jack lays his free, tea-warmed hand over Eric’s and smiles softly.

“No, Eric. It’s just sweet, is all.”

Bitty seems satisfied with that. They sit in silence for a moment. Until Eric promptly looks away and stands, and for a moment Jack believes that he’s done something to mess it up again, until the other walks over to one of the boxes on the table in the waitingroom area. He’s cleared his throat and maybe it’s the Christmas lights but his cheeks look tinged a soft pink. Bitty’s eyes flicker up to Jack perhaps a little uncertainly at first, but then he picks something up from the table and holds it up with a shy smile.

“Can’t forget this, can we?” Bitty suggests as he wiggles the mistletoe. Jack just nods. “Help me put this up? You’re the tall one.”

Jack soon regrets letting Eric choose the spot to put it up, because they end up hanging it from a hook in the ceiling above his spot at the front desk. Apparently, his crew (including himself) is going to have to kiss a couple of customers soon. Despite that prospect, it’s allowed Jack to stand close to Bitty and feel a hesitant hand on his ribs to steady him as he reaches up onto his toes to tie the string around the hook over his head.

They both look up a moment longer than is necessary before their gazes slowly land on each other instead. Jack wonders if Bitty is thinking what he himself is thinking at the same time that Eric’s mind’s eye provides a useful calculation of mistletoe plus close proximity to Jack plus what had very nearly happened last time.

“I mean, it’s tradition, right?” Eric says quietly, his chin already tipping up.

Jack barely has to move to get his hands on Bitty’s hips. His heart is beating fast, definitely not in time to the current Christmas hit song playing on the little wireless radio. Eric’s hands rest against his chest and his fingers lightly curl around the lapels of his plaid and Jack is nervous and doesn’t think that he can do it but he wants to and so…

And so he does.

One hand reaches up to cup Bitty’s cheek in the palm to enable him to tilt the other’s head back and fit their lips together softly, perfectly.

Jack’s eyes fall closed. He doesn’t know how long it lasts. Eric’s lips are soft and warm and dry against his own, moving slowly, gently, while the hands at Jack’s shirt take hold of him as if he doesn’t want him to back away. Neither does Jack. He deepens the kiss ever so slightly, just tenderly catching Bitty’s plush lower lip between his teeth and worrying it in a gently manner until it tears a soft sight from the other’s throat. Their lips close in a kiss one more time before they part. They don’t go far though – Jack’s arm around Eric’s waist keeps them as close as they both want to.

When Jack eyes open he’s met with a sight of positively pink cheeks and shiny, parted lips in a similar shade. If Jack had any less self-restraint, he would have stayed right there and kissed the air out of Bitty’s lungs.

“You taste like Christmas,” Jack whispers.

Bitty snorts an amused laugh, but before Jack can defend himself, he sighs happily. They both seem to relax as Eric brings his arms around Jack’s neck and plays idly with the short hairs at the back of his neck.

“Oh, honey,” he whispers back, with that sweet, sweet smile, “I was going to say the same about you.”

 

That night leaves no doubt in Jack’s mind.  
  
Bitty’s kisses are indeed just as sweet as his pies.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last chapter...
> 
> Thank you all so much for your support, your kudos and lovely comments on this fic. I'm really glad so many of you seem to have liked it. I wasn't sure if this would be good enough to post, but y'all. I've never had so many kudos and comments on anything. Thank you so, so much.  
> I secretly want to do a lot more with this AU, so who knows, perhaps i'll write more in this kind of universe in the future.
> 
> Come find me on Tumblr @ Moransroar.tumblr.com if you want to talk about these beautiful hockey/tattoo gays, or this AU, or anything!
> 
> See ya next time!


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